


your words never make sense to me

by Cloud_Lightning, Vallern



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, fucked up romcom, this is the most fucked up love story you can ship right now, this is the real fucked up love story, we are all garbage here lets get real people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloud_Lightning/pseuds/Cloud_Lightning, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vallern/pseuds/Vallern
Summary: "I'm your client."June never thought she would stand face to face with Serena Joy Waterford, yet here she was."Shall we begin?" The other woman spoke.And June remembered that she had to fulfill her client's whims, so she nodded and swallowed her resentment.





	your words never make sense to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vallern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vallern/gifts).



> first of all, thanks vallern for being the most amazing kinkmate a girl could ask for, and for dragging me into this ship i guess. and of course for editing this mess and makes it readable and amazing, youre the real mvp hoe
> 
> #theauthorsregretsnothing and #theauthorsregretseverything is a constant mood when it comes to this garbage
> 
> vallern: it's probably ooc or something but you know what? if tht writers can do whatever they want to their characters, so do we! i said what i said!

“June, there’s a tissue stuck under your shoes!”

“Shit!”

June stopped running to pull the tissue away and threw it away to the nearest trash bin. “Thanks!”

“Good luck, Osborne.”

Yeah, she needed a lot of luck to face Serena Joy Waterford.

It wasn’t her choice, but at the same time she couldn’t refuse because it’s her job and her boss and everyone in this publisher depends on her. Tess, her boss, will never admit it, but it was also her punishment because her last two writers didn’t pan out to be the next big thing. As if it was easy. Who still reads, anyway? June cursed herself for choosing a career in a dying field.

This was her last chance to prove that she’s worthy of this job, and also because if she failed again, then she had to find a new job. In this economy and at her age? She could barely paid her bills and she didn’t want to have another fight with her mother about how she wasted her life with this job instead of helping her.

The meeting was 2:00 PM and now it’s 1:53 PM, according to June’s phone. There should be some time before Serena Joy arrived, and enough time for June to finish her already cold coffee from this morning.

It was 1:55 PM when June entered her office, and she wasn’t alone.

A tall blonde woman was sitting on the windowsill of her office, the window was open because she was smoking. _Bitch_ , June thought. This is a non-smoking area; even she smoked outside. (After numerous complaints from Tess, of course, yet she vaped in her office. June was so sick of the double standard.)

She was wearing a perfectly nice tailored blue blouse and a modest black span skirt complete with 4 inch heels. Not too domineering or intimidating since she was already so tall, compared to June, yet not shabby either. June felt so small with her flat shoes and rumpled shirt, and not to mention there was a coffee stain on the back because some idiot thought June was someone else and threw coffee at her. At least it wasn’t hot coffee, or June would’ve sued that obnoxious douchebag on the ground of assault. Asshole.

Before June could even greet her, the woman threw away her cigarette outside the window.

“Hey, don’t litter!”

It was such a stupid thing to say, but she couldn’t help it. Growing up with a hippie mom meant that some of that dippy love Mother Earth bullshit was imprinted into her.

And the woman spoke.

“You’re late. Is this going to be a regular occurrence in the future?”

“What? Late for what? Who are you, anyway?”

The woman cocked her head to the side, the streaming light of afternoon sun made her already blonde hair looks even brighter. For a moment, June felt self-conscious with her hair. She really need to dyed it again, her roots were showing.

“Your client.”

“Oh.” _Oh shit._ “I’m sorry, I thought the meeting was on 2:00 pm, and now…”

“For the future reference, I always come at least 10 minutes before the designated time.”

Oh, so this is _the_ Serena Joy Waterford.

June took a deep breath to calm herself. “I will, thank you, Mrs. Waterford, and again, I’m sorry for coming in late. It won’t happen again.”

Serena absent-mindedly touched her silver cigarette case. “Good. Shall we begin?”

* * *

Everything was hot.

The room’s temperature, the weather, her drink, the fucking Earth was hot because of global warming. And this draft she was reading doesn't make her calmer, it made her blood boil instead, making her feel even hotter. June would never, ever understand why her printing company even agreed to consider publishing this garbage.

(Money. Duh.)

And there was the other root of all evil, Serena Joy Waterford.

She was like the second coming of Jesus for rich, white, conservative Christians. People worshiped her and she had a lot of followers on her social media, even if she mainly posted Bible verses, photos of her, and all the masses she attended at church. Also, books. A lot of book recommendations. She gave it once every two weeks or so.

(It was great, though. June can respect an avid reader with a good taste, at least.)

Really, if she felt like she wanted to start a cult, she already filled up the quota for crazy followers. Not to mention she was attractive, charismatic, and a good speaker. Three things that will make most people listened to someone, even if they were crazy.

June sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She almost threw the draft away, but then again, she needed this job. Her publishing company was in the brink of bankruptcy, and then along came the White Savior herself, Serena Joy.

She wanted to publish her book (if this was just another run of the mill delusional propaganda writer, June would probably laughed. But she knew Serena, read some news about her, even read some of her books. And as much as she hated her, Serena really knew how to write. She missed working with someone smart.), but no other publishers wanted to publish it.

And June's workplace was at the bottom of the food chain.

So, of course, she chose this place.

Sure, she could’ve just self-published, but she probably thought she was above the unwashed masses or something.

And now June was working on her draft.

God, she should've just ordered a cold coffee.

* * *

"Hey, Osborne." Tess stood on the threshold of her office. "Still no progress from our resident bitch?"

June shrugged. "Nothing. No emails, texts, calls, nothing. Her social media weren’t active for the last two weeks."

Usually Serena always posted stuff about her mass, always, no matter how busy she was. Usually it was just photo of the church, sometimes it was a picture of her that looked like taken by professional photographer (It was amazing how people could look so good with the right lighting). But the last two weeks, nothing. The last post was about a recipe about one of her dishes, and June was this close to comment on that post. But she didn't, because they're colleagues, not friends.

"So, you're stalking her social media?"

"Really? You want to do that now?"

Her boss laughed. "Why don't you pay her a little visit? See for yourself about her progress or something. Don’t let the same shit happen again."

June groaned. “Please don’t remind me. Every time someone mentioned it, I lost five minutes of my life.”

“Just get out of here and go see her.”

"Can’t say no to the person who signed my paycheck," June grumbled as she grabbed her bag. "You better pay me extra for going into the lioness' den."

"Our prayers are with you," Tess said solemnly.

 _The same shit_ was the incident that happened while they were working on the first chapter. Whatever civil, almost civil, work relationship June thought they could have after their first meeting was shattered to pieces because Serena Joy Waterford was in fact, a fucking bitch.

June didn’t remember what happened; suddenly everything went wrong and they started shouting at each other. Okay, June did all the shouting while Serena just stared at her with that icy blue eyes and flat expression and looming presence. There were too much frictions between them, and they didn’t even know what cause it in the first place, and neither of them actually tried to apologize or to set boundaries about the things that they could talk about or did together, or God forbid, joke.

June tried to throw the draft to her one time, and it didn’t even reach Serena's face. She just stood there, towering over her, as if she was mocking June with her height.

June ran away after that, too mad and embarrassed because she couldn’t even fight her properly.

Good thing Tess dragged the two of them to have a proper meeting like an adult. Tess, of course, forced June to apologize first. Even though it wasn’t entirely her fault, she did it anyway because Tess threatened to cut her salary. June was willing to swallow her pride as long as she could pay her bills and have a roof over her head. She’d rather apologize to Miss Bitch than starving and being homeless.

June apologized at 10:13 AM, she knew that because she got a text from Moira, asking her whether she could have a drink with her later. She couldn’t answer it because Serena Joy fucking Waterford was sitting on the other side of the table and Tess sat between them, in case someone tried to strangle the other.

It was 12:27 PM when Serena finally said something. “Fine. Can I leave now? I have another meeting.”

“Oh thank God.” June blurted out. She was tired, hungry, and cranky. She was so over Serena’s childish refusal to accept her apology. There was no way this woman was her age, she was mentally thirteen or something.

Tess kicked her shin under the table.

“Of course, Mrs. Waterford. I assure you, it won’t happen again in the future. I’m deeply sorry for my editor’s behavior and the unprofessionalism she displayed.”

Serena stood up, her icy blue eyes sweeping both of them. Tess wasn’t a short woman, but June could feel that she cowered a little when Serena’s eyes were on her. Damn the ‘customer is always right’ bullshit.

When June thought she would say something, she just left without saying anything.

Of course Tess didn’t want that to happen again.

* * *

"How do you know my place?"

"Hello to you too, Mrs. Waterford.”

"Good afternoon, Miss Osborne," Serena said with a thinly veiled sneer. "Can you answer my question now?"

"You're one of our writers; of course we know where you live." June shrugged. “I didn't know you have a greenhouse."

"You don’t know anything about me, Miss Osborne."

"And I would prefer to keep it that way."

Serena glared at her. "Just wait here. I'll bring you the draft for the first chapter in a few hours or so."

"Hey, what..."

But Serena already closed the greenhouse door right in front of her face.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" June growled. The gray clouds fit her mood. She hoped it won’t be raining.

* * *

She spoke too soon.

"Hey, why don't you show me that good Christian heart and actually let me inside the fucking greenhouse?!" June yelled, trying to beat the sound of the rain. "It's fucking raining outside!" Her entire body was drenched and her teeth were chattering.

Serena yanked the door open, annoyance was palpable on her face. "Must you yell like that? I—" She didn't finish it because June already pushed her way inside. "Excuse me?!"

"You’re excused. Now close the damn door!"

"Are you out of your mind?! Why are you stripping in the middle of my greenhouse?!" Serena quickly averted her eyes.

"Jesus, lady, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before! We have the same parts!"

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain, Miss Osborne!"

"Shut up! Didn’t you see I'm drenched because of the rain? You think I want to do this for free?" June snapped.

Serena gave up and opened a cabinet to get a clean towel from inside. Without looking at June, she shoved the new towel to her. "At least cover yourself. This is so inappropriate."

"Thanks," June grumbled.

"I don’t want people to think I killed you on purpose."

* * *

"I didn’t expect someone like you to have a green thumb."

"And what’s that supposed to mean?"

"It's just unexpected when a cold, barren bitch like you could grow so many beautiful plants.” The words tumbled from June’s mouth without her realizing it. She snapped her mouth shut.

She really shouldn’t read too much about Serena, not when it didn’t have to do anything with her books. It filled her head with things that she didn’t need to know about the other woman.

(The forums she visited were so mean about her.)

Serena's glare was icier than the chill that June felt from the rain. "Have you ever considered that my plants are there so I can forget that I'm empty and barren?" she hissed.

Guilt was a foreign emotion when it came to this woman. June never liked Serena and vice versa. It was so easy to dislike her; if it wasn't for her politics, then her personality. Serena's high-strung, neurotic, hot and cold personality never meshed well with June and her volatile temper. For her, Serena was just another bored trophy wife who took up writing so her husband could bragged about her and showed off her book to his guests, untouched and dusty.

Yet she heard that Serena divorced Fred Waterford, a shocking move for a woman who always preached that women should obeyed their husbands and the Lord. Infidelity, they said, which was a polite version of Fred's whoremongering way was too much to ignore and it became an embarrassment instead of a minor detail in their (not so) perfect, WASPy household.

Yet, guilt was what June felt when the word _barren_ left her mouth and the pain and sadness in Serena's eyes were barely hidden behind her anger. "I..."

"Don't." She turned her back to June. "I don't need a two-bit editor to tell me that she's sorry."

June bit her lips. Serena's form suddenly looked so small and vulnerable; her shoulders were shaking slightly under the dark blue blouse that she wore.

 _Probably just my imagination_ , June thought. _Is_ _Serena Joy Waterford crying in front of me? Sure, when the pigs are flying._

And maybe the pigs weren't flying, but they were definitely hovering. When Serena turned back to face June, there was a hint of redness around her eyes.

They were silent; the awkwardness between them was so thick she could felt it in the air. June decided to be the bigger woman, for once. It was shitty of her for saying that, anyway. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I didn't know, and even if I did, I shouldn't have to use it against you."

Serena eyed her warily, but her poker face was perfect when she muttered, "Don't be."

June sighed. This wasn't going anywhere, and there’s no way Serena will accept her apology anyway. "Listen, I just want the next draft, alright? Your deadline was two weeks ago and my boss was on my ass asking about you, so I just want that and then I can go and we can forget about what just happened."

Serena took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, and when she opened it again, gone was any hint of crying, and only a look of determination remained.

“Give me three hours.”

It wasn’t a request, but it wasn’t a demand, per se.

Whatever civil, almost civil conversation they had was over the moment Serena turned her back to June again.

* * *

June sighed in content and wrapped her hands around the steaming plain white mug. The hot cocoa was nice. When was the last time she drank it?

And to think that someone like Serena Joy Waterford could make a tasty hot cocoa and didn’t put any rat poison in it. That she knew of.

If she died, she didn’t have to put up with Serena anymore, right?

She shook her head and pulled her own laptop out. She might as well be working while waiting for Serena’s draft. When she tried to turn on her laptop a few times, nothing happened.

“Fuck.” June tried again.

Alas, it was only her reflection on the screen instead of her desktop.

“Shit.”

“Can you stop cursing? Or should I do it myself?”

June didn’t realize Serena was no longer typing.

“Sorry, my laptop is dead.” June was looking through her bag, hoping she’d bring the charger. She found nothing. “Goddammit.”

“Did you not hear of what I just said?” Serena glanced at her from the corner of her eyes, deeming that June didn’t deserve her full attention.

June growled deeply and slammed her laptop shut. “Crystal clear.”

Serena just shook her head and returned to her task, leaving June alone with her thought, a dead laptop, and a phone with 15 percent battery left.

* * *

It was actually the first time June saw the greenhouse, she didn’t really appreciate it before since she was busy trying not to be dead because of the cold. Now that the chaos was over, she finally felt calm. It was so alarming, to feel that around Serena Joy. Maybe it was because of the greenhouse’s effect, making June’s brain melting. Maybe because she was bored and had nothing to do and her brain adapted to the modern era where no stimulation means death.

She looked around the greenhouse, and she saw that almost every surface was covered with plants. June inspected them carefully, and every single one of them was perfectly taken care of. She tried to ask Serena about her plants, but all she received was a side glance or total silence. Maybe Serena was still angry at her because June thought bonsai was a name of a plant, instead of a technique for plant cultivation.

The way Serena looked at her was like June had just committed the greatest sin of all. It was pretty funny.

Or maybe Serena just focused on working the draft, the very reason why June was here.

“The three hours is going to be seven if you keep asking me about every single plant in here." Serena broke the silence between them.

"I thought you love your plants."

"I do, and that's why short answers aren’t enough. They deserved to be told properly."

"Alright. I was about to ask your favorite one, but I think..."

"White rose," Serena said without missing a beat.

"You love white rose?" That was actually surprising.

"Why, because someone like me doesn't look like someone that likes a rose?"

"I thought its red rose or something more…” June shrugged. “I don’t know, sinister.”

"Red rose already lost its meaning. Also, there is no such thing as a sinister plant. Even poisonous plants can be beautiful in their own way.”

 _Are you talking about yourself?_ “Yeah, of course.”

They returned into comfortable silence once more, but now June played with one of the plants. It wasn't that bad. 'Nice' was too much, but the _click-clack_ sound that Serena made from her keyboard, combined with the softness of the towel and the warmth of the greenhouse lulled June to a half-asleep state and the other woman wasn't that bad when she wasn't saying anything.

Funny. She came here today just to get a new draft from Serena, but June learned a lot more about her than she ever had in the last three months. Something real and not just rumors.

June remembered a week after the interview with Serena about her choice to go here, and her old publisher came to the office. Demanding the truth about why Serena picked June’s place instead of them. They didn’t know, and her boss didn’t really ask too many questions since they really need the money.

June brought it up in her next meeting with Serena, and she threatened to change publisher. She laughed because she knew it was impossible. No other publishers wanted her, except her old one, maybe. But then again, June was one hundred percent sure Serena would never set foot there again.

People keep saying how the real reason Serena didn’t go to her original publisher was because her husband couldn’t kept it in his pants. How he slept with her previous editor, or how the accountant of said publisher caught red-handed kissing with Fred, and all that.

Everyone knew the Waterfords were trying to have a baby, but they always failed. The men blamed Fred for that, saying how could he failed to get someone like Serena pregnant, while the women blamed Serena (behind her back, of course. God forbid they actually talk like that in front of her), saying how she couldn't get pregnant or how she couldn’t satisfy her husband.

Personally, June thought Serena just had a streak of bad lucks. Not to say that she fully understand the other woman, but it must be hard to stand tall in the middle of bullshit thrown to her like that. Women blamed her, men leered at her, and her own damn husband couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

June took her phone out, again. She groaned softly when she saw the battery was around 6%, just enough to text boss.

Luke’s text was unopened.

June felt a little guilty. Why would she felt that? They were having an affair, June should be glad because they stopped seeing each other, thanks to Serena Joy Waterford. For someone named joy, Serena sure did suck out all the joy in the world.

June took a peak at Serena’s tense back, sitting straight with such poise and dignity. She made typing looks so regal.

Yeah okay, June officially lost her mind. Maybe she should rest? Take a nap a little bit? It’s not like she could do something else while waiting. June sighed as she made a mental note to buy another charger, both for her phone and computer, the one that always going to stay inside her bag.

It was three hours later when June woke up all alone in the greenhouse. No trace of Serena, not even a whiff of her perfume inside this greenhouse, but then she felt a heavy blanket draped around her shoulder. June pulled the blanket, cocooning herself with it. She sighed contently; when was the last time she had such a nice nap? She saw a stack of paper with a post-it on top of it and a note written in beautiful, curved handwriting with blue ink.

_You can see yourself out. -SJ_

* * *

“Mom, you could call me at least two hours ago!” June hissed into the phone as she massaged her throbbing forehead. She swore to God she would need Botox before the end of the year since her veins kept popping out because of her mom and a certain tall blonde.

“ _June, do you think I want the hospital to be full with patients?_ ”

June sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

Because no matter what, the hospital was the most important thing for her mother instead of her only child. She sounded so selfish for saying that, even if it was just in her head. It was stupid and petty, but even now June still longed for her mother’s affection. Stupid mommy issues.

She called Moira next, because she did not want all of this food go to waste. Maybe she should just donate all this food to the shelter after she took a little portion for dinner.

And of course, Moira was busy. ( _“Sorry, I have a date with Odette!”_ ) Well, at least one of them got some. June was seething in jealousy since she was in the middle of a dry spell.

Guess she should really go to the shelter. The ONE day she tried to eat healthy by cooking her own food, no one was around to take her leftovers since she had no concept of portions. Bastards.

Before she changed her clothes, her phone pinged with a new text message.

_I’ve finished the third chapter. You can come tomorrow to get it._

In the future, June would’ve blamed the alcohol for doing this.

_Can I come to your place right now?_

She thought Serena would stop texting her, or even texted her and said no and demanding June to stop coming to her place altogether. Imagine her surprise when the answered June received was…

_The spare key is in the third white rose flowerpot from the right._

_lol ok_

_Never mind._

Of course she was the type that took offense in text speak. Serena should call an arborist to remove all the sticks in her ass.

_I’m sorry, Mrs. Waterford. Happy?_

If someone told her that she would have dinner with Serena Joy Waterford, she’d probably slap them, and then herself, because it was actually happening now.

* * *

June never went to Serena’s place at night, so it felt weird and unfamiliar. She thanked her Uber driver as she closed the car’s door. She walked to the front gate with no small amount of anxiety forming in her stomach. It looked more menacing at night, despite lots of lighting.

She pushed the gate open and locked it afterward. Hurriedly, she walked to the many rows of flowerpots and dig the soil a little until she touched the key. She considered kicking the flowerpot, but then she decided she didn’t need another reason to provoke Serena.

“Here goes nothing,” June said to herself as she gripped the bag tightly and opened the door.

The house was empty, and even with almost every lamps turned on, there was this lingering dread on every corner of this old house. Serena really needs to move somewhere else or at least the one where it wasn’t this big and bare, but knowing her, she would probably live in a castle if she could.

“Serena?” June called out to the emptiness of the house. She didn’t want to call Serena by her first name, but then again it was weird to call her Mrs. Waterford in her own house. The other woman’s name tasted weird in June’s mouth, for all its unfamiliarity.

June walked to the kitchen, and it was empty, save for all the cookware and utensils that were gleaming underneath the soft light. Sometimes June wonder whether Serena actually cook or this amazing kitchen was just for display.

No, she definitely cook. No way in hell a woman so determined to have other women “knowing their places” and basically set feminism back to pre-women’s suffrage era didn’t know how to cook. It was practically a sin in God’s eyes, or more likely, in Serena’s eyes.

“What is that?”

June jumped as she heard Serena from behind her. “Shit, you scared me!”

“What is that?” Serena asked one more time. Her gloved hand was holding her silver cigarette case. Freaking bougie, but she had to admit she wanted that, though.

June looked at her custom made pinkie glove on top of the case. God, rich people and their weird and obnoxious taste. June was curious about it, what made Serena wore that, but she was sure they weren’t at a point where they could complimented each other’s outfit. Although June thought the color didn’t really fit her; it should be black, teal was hideous.

“Food, what else?” June said as she moved around the kitchen. “You haven’t eaten anything, I assume?”

“And what makes you think I want to eat something of yours?”

June stopped moving. “You know what?” She smiled sweetly despite wanting nothing more than to strangle Serena right now. “Maybe I should just donate this to the shelter since they…”

“I didn’t say no.”

June blinked a few times, looking at Serena with disbelief. “You just did.”

“The plates are on the top cabinet,” she muttered disinterestedly.

June raised her hands, frustrated. “Guess we’ll have dinner, then.”

* * *

Maybe she died and this was hell, trapped with Serena Joy Waterford, no, eating dinner with Serena Joy Waterford in her fancy kitchen. Maybe her Uber driver killed her on the way here and now she was in limbo, destined to nothingness since she barely paid lip service to God. Whatever it was, it wasn’t heaven because her version of heaven didn’t include Serena in any capacity whatsoever.

Both of them sat at the end of the kitchen counter. The marble was cold beneath June’s burning skin, and the draft she was reading didn’t help either. It made her angry at herself, that she was basically helping a misogynistic woman trying to dictate a woman’s place in exchange for money. But she was desperate, and she wasn’t brave enough to give her resignation to Tess with no safety net. Sure, she could’ve lived with her mother until she get back up, but what 35 years old can do that indefinitely? She wasn’t a fresh faced college graduate anymore, plus she was too prideful to ask for help any more than she had to.

So she had to suck it up and be content with small rebellions towards Serena. Petty, but what can she do about it?

At first, Serena was angry because June read the draft while eating, and June just said something about time efficiency and how she would not spill any chicken onto the draft. Serena just grumbled in response and poured herself a glass of red wine and pushed the bottle to the middle of the counter. Good to know she wasn’t that heartless, at least. If she died choking on chicken in Serena’s house, she will haunt her forever.

The silence was suffocating her, sucking the life out of June and vaporized it into the nether. What is it with Serena and sucking thing? First, she sucked out all of joy from June ever since the first time the woman spoke to her. The way she talked, the way she carried herself, and the way she addressed June made her skin bristle. Like her presence alone offended June, and Serena probably felt the same towards her.

Every interactions with Serena Joy Waterford aged her for at least two years, and they communicated so goddamned much. There was always something wrong about her in Serena’s eyes. It was worse than her mother’s scrutiny because Serena was a client, not blood, and her disapproval shouldn’t be this personal towards June, but it stung all the same.

Serena's disappointment drained her and it made all those sexting she used to do with Luke suddenly become such a chore, hell, even just talking normally was a chore now. She didn’t have any energy to text Moira either, but at least Moira was a little more understanding, even though she didn’t understand why June would put up with all of this. She wished she could quit and find another job. God, if only she could do that.

But, again, she was already in her mid-30s and just promoted to junior editor, and it was a risk to quit and started all over again. She wasn’t getting any younger, and she was too tired to do the whole interview process all over again, not to mention the crying part when she didn’t get the job.

June sighed loudly as she scratched a few sentences on the draft with her red pen, writing down something else on the place. A part of her was angry that Serena insisted she reads her drafts on paper instead of emailing the document like normal people, but she insisted on it. _More authentic_ , she said. A huge waste of trees, in June's opinion.

“Which part?” Serena asked without looking at June.

“If you keep asking me that, it would take seven hours for me to edit one page.”

“Should I be worried that it takes you that long to edit my work?”

“Well maybe you should be worry for using such flowery languages!” June slammed her pen to the counter, frustrated. “Jesus, can you just get to the point? What the fuck even–“

“Miss Osborne.”

June raised her hands. “And what the fuck even is wrong with this house? Is this house used to be a crime scene and the ghost lingers here?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“This house feels empty and dead, Serena,” June raised her voice. “Even with all these lights and every fancy things, this house doesn’t have any soul.”

“You can just say this house is empty and barren,” Serena sneered. “Like me.”

June physically pulled herself back, the coldness of Serena’s voice as she said that was like a slap to her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s twice now. Should I keep a blackboard with a question ‘How many times my editor has made a remark about my infertility’?”

“Can you not…”

“Can I not what, Miss Osborne?” Serena raised her voice.

June laughed bitterly. “And here I thought we can have one nice dinner, where the two of us just have dinner in silence as I edit your work and you brooding and staring into distance.” _Since you’re such a fucking drama queen_ went unsaid.

“And why would you want that?”

“Because we’re going to work together for a long time, Serena,” June said. “Like it or not, I’m your editor, and I just want this thing to go as smoothly as possible and hopefully my sanity still intact after we’re done with your book.”

Serena looked away.

“Look, if you don’t want to be my friend, fine. I assure you, the feeling is mutual. But please, at least be civil when it comes to the editing process? I’m not here to pick a fight with you. Honestly, you’re one of the smartest writer I’ve work with, and even we have a really huge difference in almost everything, I respect you for that.” June took a deep breath. _Be the bigger person just this once, June._ “Just, let’s be professional to each other, alright?”

Serena took a deep breath. “Very well.”

“Thank you.”

Serena cleared her throat as she began to eat again. “This is quite a decent chicken,” she said, clearly having a hard time to be polite. God, it was like being polite and having small talk was such a torture for her. Wasn't she a socialite? Where's her social skills? June didn't know whether to feel flattered or furious that Serena didn't even bother to treat her with empty and fake courtesy and instead whining and throwing temper tantrums every time her entitled ass didn't get what she wanted.

June snorted. “You can say it sucks, because it really is. I can’t cook.” She lived off take outs, coffee, and cigarettes. It was a miracle she didn’t have gout. Yet.

Was that a smile on Serena’s lips? June felt nervous all of the sudden. The knives were closer to her than to Serena, but her gloved hand was holding a fork…

“Next time, just let me do all the cooking.”

June’s hand hovered near her wine glass, when she looked over to Serena; the woman was busy eating with her perfect poker face. Seriously, she knew her chicken is dry, but the way Serena looked at it was like it spat on her mother. “Hey, as long as there’s no poison, I’m down.”

“I’ll try to remember that, then.”

June chuckled and took her wine glass. “I’ll have to stay with you the whole time while you’re cooking to make sure you’re not slipping cyanide into my portion.”

“Where would I get cyanide? Besides, you’re just going to be a distraction.”

Both of them stopped.

They looked at each other on the same time.

And fuck… Did she hear that right?

And did Serena Joy Waterford just blushed?

“I have some chocolate ice cream for dessert, if you want one,” Serena said as she hurriedly walked toward her fridge.

So June didn’t misheard it. Also, who knew Serena liked sweets? Shame it didn't affect her personality one bit.

“Uh, yeah, sure. But maybe later, I mean, I haven’t finished it yet.” She gestured to her plate.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Serena said as she cleared her throat, her eyes on the floor the whole time.

_Hmm. Interesting._


End file.
